A TRUE STORY! But first, don't forget, there's still time to enter the IT'S MY DAY! contest!
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After a half a bottle of unoaked Chardonnay and some Matt Nathanson music, good company, and a nice meal, I informed Mr. Manic that last night might turn into a lucky night for him. I planned to bring to him some Manic Magic, if you know what I mean, especially because he got slighted on the BJ and a Steak celebration, mainly because I never did tell him that it is a faux-liday. Ha, I just made that up. A faux-holiday. A fauxliday. Like it? Feel free to incorporate it into your everyday correspondence.
We get the kids to bed, and I tell him we’re going to do things my way. Yep, it was going to be a “My Way or the Highway” kinda night. He was all up for it because it had been a while. Know what I’m sayin?
“Go make sure Diva’s settled into bed.”
He did and she was. She was even asleep already.
“Go make sure the boys are asleep.”
He did and they were.
I settled myself comfortably onto my bed.
“Lock the door.”
“I want a back massage. Take off my shirt.”
“Get the lotion from that basket over there.”
“I don’t know. You have to turn on the light.”
“The light will hurt my eyes.”
“YOU HAVE TO TURN ON THE LIGHT TO SEE WHICH LOTION I WANT YOU TO USE FOR MY BACK MASSAGE!”
Can you envision the heightened passion?
He doesn’t turn on the light but instead hands me three choices of lotions. I feel the bottles. One is Miracle Heel for my feet. I remove the lids from the other two and sniff.
“This one.” It’s French Vanilla Bean. Bath and Body Works.
I’m lying on my bed, face down, shirt off.
“Now,” I demand, “straddle me.”
He is a good servant. He knows that in order for him to get what he wants, I must get what I want. I want a back massage. I never get back massages. This is something new I am trying out. This dominant side of me is brilliant! I am convinced it will bring a new level of exciting passion into our lives!
He is waiting for my command. Patiently. As a good servant will.
“Okay,” I say. “Put the lotion on me.”
Mr. Manic tosses the bottle onto my back, flips off of me and says, “There. The lotion is ON YOU. Give me the remote. I’m missing Saturday Night Live.”